Munich and the changing face of European security

Do you still yearn for a road trip? Seeking new landscapes away from urban noise and traffic? One of your scribe’s favourites is the 1,100 miles from Blighty to his writing lair in Croatia. Although a new express service from St Pancras to the Fatherland is to be welcomed, that is cheating, for it’s the independence of the automobile that is key to calming voyages of discovery. Avoid the French autoroute system, which is expensive, dabble with a little panzer history in the Ardennes and for a first evening ensconce oneself in one of the region’s plentiful chateaux, and prepare to access the German autobahn network which is free, but always busy. 

Frontier-busting blitzkriegs used to take three days, but it is best to slow down and take one’s time. In the absence of any invasion timetable, potter rather than race through central Europe, and spend a week reaching the ever-sunny shores of the Adriatic Croatia. Speed is irrelevant; there will always be a Porsche (who made exceedingly good tanks) to out-sprint you. The ancient town of Heidlberg, host to Germany’s oldest university since 1386, beckons as venue for a second soiree. It is good to share the cobbles where Martin Luther and Mozart once strode, later graced by Napoleon who conversed with Goethe, and where this humble historian once worked for NATO. 

Heading south since leaving the White Cliffs, now turn east near Karlsruhe. Shuffling past Stuttgart, with its Porsche Museum, and Ulm, the biographer’s mind turns to past conversations with Manfred Rommel and his daughter Catherine about their field marshal forebear. At the time, there was deep research to be done for a book about the Desert Fox, who came from the area and who is commemorated in the cemetery at nearby Herrlingen, now renamed Blaustein. 

The racetrack that is Die Acht (Autobahn 8 or E52) is never comfortable, and on leaving the state of Württemberg, it is a relief to enter Bavaria and overnight at Augsburg, founded in 15 BC by the Emperor Augustus. Much wellied (there is no better technical term) by Lancasters and Flying Fortresses in 1943-44, on account of its MAN diesel factory which made U-boat engines, and Messerschmitt headquarters, it has fully recovered, though visits invariably coincide with the discovery of yet another unexploded aerial bomb. It is tempting to consider the southern German cities in terms of the strategic shopping lists of the Second World War bomber barons, but they have deeper cultural history. Augsburg was the birthplace of Leopold Mozart, of whom the city fathers are inordinately proud. 

Then it’s on to the best part of the road trip, which takes the intrepid traveller through the mountains of Bavaria, Austria and Italy. Slow down to take in playful waterfalls, a magical schloss or two, and alpine meadows, viewed from near-empty roads. A pause at Hohenwefen Castle, the fictional Schloss Adler in Where Eagles Dare, and village of Werfen, backdrop for The Sound of Music may be in order, as the scenery induces the driver to unwind, knowing the end is in sight, via a final halt in the delightful, but little-known, Slovenian capital of Ljubljana. 

Recently, this historian has begun to insert a day or two of learning en route, in Bavaria’s capital, München. Its capture by the U.S. Army on Hitler’s birthday in 1945 was the focus of a chapter in a recent book of mine, when photojournalist Lee Miller and her companion David E. Scherman photographed each other relaxing in Der Führer’s Munich bathtub on the day of his suicide. Once home to the ruling House of Wittelsbach for 738 years, its last king, Ludwig III, was dethroned and replaced by a People’s State in November 1918, in the dying embers of the Great War. The new administration lasted less than a year before an odious Bavarian Soviet Republic forced its abdication. They, in turn, were overthrown by right-wing forces who, in merciless street fighting, involving flame-throwers, heavy artillery, armoured vehicles, and even aircraft, killed 606 and later executed around 1,200 suspected communists. 

Within the Weimar Republic, a Bavarian free state emerged on 14 August 1919, however, the city was not yet done with shaking and shaping Europe’s future. In the 1920s, Munich became home to the nascent Nazi Party, which on 8-9 November 1923 staged their failed Beer Hall Putsch. The subsequent jail sentence of its leader and his chief acolytes allowed Adolf Hitler time to write the unreadable but prophetic Mein Kampf. Once his soldiers of the swastika had taken power, the city became die Hauptstadt der Bewegung (Capital of the Movement) and host, on 22 March in 1933, to the first concentration camp in its northern suburb of Dachau. 

Fast-forward to Arcisstrasse 12 in Maxvorstadt on 29-30 September 1938. In the building known then as the Führerbau (Führer’s building), which survives as today’s University of Music and Performing Arts, Hitler, Chamberlain, Mussolini and Daladier of France negotiated the Munich Pact, ceding the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia to the Third Reich without Prague’s leadership being present. At its conclusion, Chamberlain sought out Hitler in his Prinzregentenstrasse apartment, where Lee Miller would bathe seven years hence, and asked the Führer to sign his self-composed, but meaningless “Anglo-German Naval Agreement,” which was “symbolic of the desire of our two countries never to go to war with one another again.” This was the piece of paper the prime minister waved on returning to Heston aerodrome, naively declaring “Peace for our time”.

Later, the reborn city of BMW and Oktoberfests witnessed another upset when, while hosting the 1972 Summer Olympics, nine members of the Israeli team were massacred by Palestinian terrorists. Against the backdrop of these multiple dramas, from 1963 Munich had also begun to host as a private initiative, an annual security conference. Founded by Ewald-Heinrich von Kleist-Schmenzin, former member of the Stauffenberg plot, the aim was to prevent future conflicts by bringing together western leaders and experts in defence. 

The first meeting was limited to about 60, among them Helmut Schmidt and Henry Kissinger. From 1999 political, military and business figures from Central and Eastern Europe as well as India, Japan, South Korea and China were invited, to make it one of the world’s key platforms for discussing transatlantic relations, geopolitical conflicts, and emerging security threats. Occasionally as a strategic advisor I have loafed in the background, watching the great personages assemble, growing in numbers and ambition. Last year, a free book of its key speeches was published online. 

It was at the 43rd Munich Security Conference (MSC) in February 2007 that Vladimir Putin first criticised the unipolar world order and NATO’s eastward expansion, sending a message to the West that he would not accept a subordinate role in international affairs. His speech signalled a more assertive and independent stance, which in hindsight should have been heeded, and led us to where we are today. Thus, we come to this year’s MSC, the 61st, held over 14-16 February and attended by the heads of state, foreign and defence ministers of 29 countries, the EU and NATO. Chaired by former alliance Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg, on the agenda were several global challenges, though minds focussed on Ukraine, whose illegal invasion by Russia occurred three years ago, on 24 February 2022. 

What is happening now marks the end of the post-war Western security system as we know it

Munich 2025, as usual held at the Hotel Bayerischer Hof, was more important than ever, for its deliberations will affect us all. It would be foolish to ignore the fact that we are in the midst of huge security concerns, occasioned by the greatest upheaval of international affairs since 1945, the eventual outcome of which cannot yet be foreseen. As some of my friends and colleagues present this year observed, what is happening now marks the end of the post-war Western security system as we know it, and a structural shift of power away from global rules first established after the Thirty Year’s War by the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. 

The summit, a phrase of Churchill’s, confirmed President Trump’s vision that sees a return to “spheres of influence” last seen at Yalta. There was also a sense that Europeans, for their own security and defence, must respond, but they remain currently frozen in horror, to varying degrees, as rabbits caught in headlamps. Few of Europe’s current crop of politicians (with the exception of those neighbouring Russia) have demonstrated strategic understanding or political will to draw red lines or change this profound shift to their detriment. Munich 2025 also suggested that “soft power” is out and “hard power,” of the kind last seen in the 1991 Gulf War, is back in vogue, in a new world of global great power competition.

However, some of Europe remains in denial, despite being warned of the coming changes back at the MSC of 2007. It begs several questions. Will this strengthen Europe or will the efforts of Russia, which have already succeeded in Slovakia, Hungary and Georgia, fragment it? Secondly, does this mean the Americans have ceased to be our friends? Well, we should take heart, for this is not the first time U.S.-European relations have been tested. They hit a low in the aftermath of Suez in 1956, de Gaulle’s expulsion of NATO from its French headquarters in 1966, and again over the invasion of Iraq in 2003. America may be turning in on itself, but its globalised economy cannot survive without Europe. 

Some fastballs are in motion as I write. First, the implications of Friedrich Merz’s CDU/CSU Conservative win in the 23 February federal German elections. Despite one in five voting for his NATO-critical AfD rivals, who came second, with proven credentials as a staunch Atlanticist, Merz will likely adopt a far more robust approach to Ukrainian and wider European security than his predecessors, Merkel and Scholz. Secondly, on 11 March, Greenland will go to the polls in a general election called by its ruling Siumut party, which will also include Denmark’s semi-autonomous territory voting on Trump’s demands to acquire the island. Few anticipate it will accede to Washington’s diktat and assume U.S. forces will not occupy the sovereign territory of a fellow NATO member under duress. A similar observation is made of the same rhetoric when applied to Canada, though some Trump-watchers assess that these threats and others made against Panama and elsewhere are merely designed to create leverage: give me what I want, and I won’t invade or impose tariffs.

The waters would be clearer if it were just a matter of Russia versus Ukraine, but Munich 2025 was grappling with several interrelated and underlying security themes. Namely, America re-orientating its role in the world, not least with China, Taiwan, the Koreas and Israel, as well as Russia; Europe trying to overcome internal tensions and determine its own future in terms of defence and security; the changing nature of transatlantic alliances between Washington D.C. and various European countries and with NATO; and finally, the United States navigating a way through its own, increasingly acute domestic challenges. All are tectonic in their own right and affect each other. Along the way, the UK has to find a role and decide on its dance partners for the next few decades in the aftermath of a toxic Brexit. In terms of defence, our world is no longer one of a binary choice between America or Europe; there are more partnerships to be had with reliable allies throughout Europe, with the Canadians, Japanese, Israelis and Australians.

As MP Nick Timothy wisely observes, rearming without reindustrialising would make little sense, with continued dependence on foreign suppliers. Failure to rewire domestic manufacturing but increase defence purchases, would also exacerbate the UK’s existing trade deficit plus fail to address the issue of the ability of overseas manufacturers to block transfers of equipment to third party countries, as Germany and Switzerland have notably done over supplies to Ukraine. He notes that Washington can afford to spend far more on defence, because its contractors are overwhelmingly American. 

At the very least, a UK government might have to swallow hard and consider nationalising steel production and probably shipbuilding, the control of which administrations of all hues have been remarkably passive. There needs to be a rethink, too, about using Chinese technology for critical infrastructure, for example to build UK wind farms in the North Sea, which potentially might leave Beijing in control of the turbines. Amid numerous reports of Russian-related vessels cutting or spying on UK and Baltic offshore pipelines and cables, and suspected Russian drones buzzing airfields in England, it seems remarkable that the UK has no government minister specifically in charge of vital infrastructure security. 

Hopefully, this will all be addressed in the upcoming Strategic Defence Review, announced by John Healey on 16 July 2024, which is expected soon and to which I submitted evidence. However, I fear more fudging, for the decades-old logic of UK defence vested in shrinking budgets, aircraft carriers, and boosting special forces, might have been appropriate for elective conflicts against weaker states and terror groups, but seems increasingly inappropriate for action against peer or near-peer adversaries. 

The loss of the Russian Moskva cruiser and other warships, plus a multitude of land-based armour, since has exposed the weakness of large and costly weapons platforms to drones and smart munitions. Our best short-term hopes probably lie in ensuring the UK retains the capability to at least lead the Joint Expeditionary Force (JEF) rapid response organisation. Active since 2018, it consists of the Nordic countries (Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden), the Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania), and the Netherlands. Whatever future money John Healey can wrangle from the Treasury will have to be carefully balanced between today’s six domains of maritime, land, air, space, cyber and information, with insightful investment in hybrid technology and hardware, especially AI, drones and missile defence, notwithstanding retention of a nuclear deterrent. 

Meanwhile, Europe and the UK will study the world’s first unmanned land and air battle, fought at Lyptsi last December. Betokening warfare of the future, we now know about a half a dozen Ukrainian machine-gun-mounted land drones with aerial quadcopters dropping munitions were used, despite attempted Russian electronic interference and attacks from hostile drones. The ground and air vehicles worked together against their opponents’ positions, their pilots in different locations, coordinating the mission while watching the battlefield simultaneously from a common video feed.

Ukrainian units intercepted communications which revealed chaos and fear among Russian troops, who were fighting machines with no human troops in sight. The mission succeeded beyond expectations, with infantry securing their objectives after the ground drones had finished their mission. This is just the beginning: it will lead to more tinkering, more missions, and experimentation with different scales of attacks. Inspired by Israel’s detonating pager attacks on Hezbollah last September, the recent revelation of a Ukrainian plot to sabotage goggles issued to Russian drone pilots adds a new twist to remotely controlled warfare. 

In the days of the Cold War (oh, how we might wish for that predictability and stability), Western leaders encouraged the discipline of Kremlin-watching, when every move and utterance of the Russian elite was dissected and analysed. Today, this same applies to Washington D.C., for under President Trump, the world is as much in the dark as to what he will say or do next. However, my MSC 2025 colleagues did arrive at several conclusions. 

Treating all geopolitical matters as simple real estate deals, which they are not, Trump seems to have no one around him who really understands Russia. Determined to bring Moscow out of the cold, he has decided to realign U.S. relations with the Kremlin at Ukraine’s and wider Europe’s expense, and seems to genuinely trust Vladimir Putin, regarding those who do not, including his own intelligence agencies, as treasonous opponents. This is evidenced by labelling President Zelensky of Ukraine a “dictator”, asserting that Kyiv “started the current war” and reportedly refusing to label Russia the aggressor in a G7 anniversary statement on the third anniversary of the conflict. 

Given the not unreasonable assumption that “America First” in reality means “Trump First” there may also be underlying business motives to open up Moscow to Trump-Musk business opportunities. The stated presidential desire to develop Gaza as a ‘big real estate site’ also betrays the same commercial instincts. Ultimately, this suggests Trump is interested in the Gospel of Prosperity, not of Security, though the deafening voice of America’s defence industries may dictate otherwise.

There are three interpretations to the rhetoric of February. First, that Donald Trump’s well-established tactics of old are to insult, cause havoc with his rhetoric, and make his opponents do all the running. Or it might be the second, that in refusing to read briefs or take advice, and rarely sticking to any agreed script, his utterances and actions blunder all over the place, betraying a lack of firm doctrine or philosophy. Or it might be a blend of the two.

No European leaders have yet, in the manner of Dr Doolittle, “learned to speak Trump”

It began to dawn on my friends at Munich this year that no European leaders have yet, in the manner of Dr Doolittle, “learned to speak Trump”. To do so would be to comprehend his determination not to be dragged into foreign wars by what he sees as fights over mere rebel provinces, such as the Donbas, Crimea and Taiwan. Some of his ire is also directed at Germany, with whom the reinvigorated Trumpian world order might have built a new “special relationship”, but since publicly haranguing Angela Merkel in July 2018 for her refusal to step up to the Fatherland’s financial and security responsibilities, he has lost respect and patience for the former powerhouse of Europe.

Munich observers also concluded that much American rhetoric at the summit and elsewhere was for domestic consumption. We see the United States in the midst of its own undeclared Second Civil War, with startled Democrats and Never-Trumpers asserting the new regime long ago triggered a crisis in American democracy, sensing a coup mounted by a wealthy digital and financial clique, fundamentally opposed to the existing order, who are isolationist and protectionist by nature.

These Washington warriors allege that all traditional notions of U.S. national interest are being abandoned even to the extent of assaulting the Constitution itself, and seriously liken the current febrile atmosphere to that of Russia poised on the brink of revolution in 1917. His last administration suggested that Trump himself is an impressive hirer-and-firer, soon picking fights with subordinates, so it may be that Elon Musk and others become victims to a “Night of the Long Knives” purge along the way. Although these pronouncements in and out of government affect Washington’s relations with the rest of the world, and while recognising this domestic shift is happening, Europe must not get dragged into America’s debate about its own future.

However, Trump has rightly triggered a very necessary European (and by extension a UK) debate about its foreign and defence policy. Percentage figures of increasing defence expenditure to between 2.5 and 5 percent of GDP are being bandied around, without seeming to realise that any increase (or lack of increase) is also a statement of political will. Though there is no quick way to plug Europe’s defence gap, the choice couldn’t be more stark: spend more immediately, something, anything, and satisfy Trump along the way, or carry vastly increased risk. 

Both Goebbels and Göring, Nazi leaders in the 1930s, put it succinctly: “Guns or butter”. With Europe’s 748 million people in 50 countries collectively generating a GDP of $30 trillion, there is every reason to believe this is easily achievable, creating a stronger bloc to deter Russia, and an impressive partner for America to reduce threats from China. Europe’s combined GDP of 29.4 per cent of the world’s total compares favourably to that of the U.S.A. at 44.1, and both comfortably outstrip China, Russia or wavering friends in the Gulf. 

There is also much ill-informed talk about the United States leaving NATO. Legally it cannot happen. In 2023, President Biden future-proofed membership by getting Congress to approve a law preventing any president from unilaterally withdrawing from NATO without approval of the Senate or an Act of Congress. Consent would require two thirds of each chamber, numbers that Trump’s allies are unlikely to ever achieve, so NATO is safe for now. The Republican sponsor of the bill was Marco Rubio, now Trump’s Secretary of State, so there lies hope. 

This crisis in transatlantic relations, although long visible on the horizon, has occurred far quicker than European leaders anticipated. However, we must realise that both Putin (73 on 7 October) and Trump (79 on 14 June), each concerned about their place in history, are in a hurry. Aging rapidly, they would like to get a deal on Ukraine out of the way quickly. Putin, because of his fast-imploding economy, the widespread unpopularity of conscription for his “special operation,” economic isolation and general standing in the world. 

Trump would like to prove his “Art of the Deal” tactics, has long been after a Nobel Peace Prize (something his money cannot buy) and with an eye on the U.S. mid-terms, is already battling with declining popularity at home, despite teasing reports of considering running for an unconstitutional third term in office, increasing fears of a “coup” or succession by a family member. He also wants to speedily shift his focus from Europe-Russia to the Indo-Pacific, assuming that is where tomorrow’s money is, and it is noticeable that the new State Department’s online policy towards Taiwan is seemingly shifting and less robust than Pacific allies would like. 

Where does this leave Ukraine? One thing is for sure: Kyiv, which gave up its nuclear weapons on the understanding that the UK and USA guarantee its security, in a deal signed in Budapest on 5 December 1994, now has every incentive to reacquire a nuclear arsenal. Global non-proliferation is dead, with all the consequences that entails, and we are to blame.

A looming crisis is that Trump and Putin agree to a deal that neither Europe nor Ukraine can accept. However, there is every reason to assume a quick settlement is impossible. Led by Volodymyr Zelensky, Kyiv is unlikely to swallow hard, suddenly forget its visceral hatred of Russia, plus its violently patriotic discovery of nationhood and, bearing in mind its loss of resources and blood, ongoing as I write, obey a Putin-Trump magic wand. 

So, the war will continue, alas. An immediate conclusion is not around the corner

Furthermore, a peace would require a vast peacekeeping force, capable of defending itself if attacked. Many fanciful suggestions have been suggested as to its size and composition, which have already hit problems of Russia vetoing a NATO or quasi-NATO deployment, which could only leave troops from the global south, more open to control by the Kremlin. From my experience as NATO’s historian in Bosnia (where I served alongside a highly professional and dedicated Ukrainian detachment), such an open-ended force, of up to 100,000, plus reconstruction and demining operations lasting decades would cost billions to sustain, to which the world’s community currently seems unlikely to contribute. Unfreezing $300 billion of seized Russian assets is the only funding proposal currently on the table, which has already been stymied by Moscow’s insistence that the money be used to repair its already-occupied areas in the Donbas. 

So, the war will continue, alas. An immediate conclusion is not around the corner. But neither is global annihilation on the cards, and it never was, despite Putin’s utterances and those of numerous doomsayers. None of the mutual admiration society of Trump, Putin, Xi or Kim wish it. That is why at different times, conversations such as the Riyah talks between foreign ministers Rubio and Lavrov, plus other overtures in Dubai, are ongoing. Meanwhile, for an excellent take on the conflagration at a personal level, I was blown away by Victoria Amelina’s powerful Looking at Women Looking at War: A War and Justice Diary, just published. We should not be surprised that the ugly conflict took the life of this excellent Ukrainian writer on 27 June 2023. 

So keep an eye on Munich. Events that change the world have a habit of happening there.